


A Snake in Skyhold

by pinksundays



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gen, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Light Angst, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-17
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2020-06-30 06:17:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19847311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinksundays/pseuds/pinksundays
Summary: In a week, a few things gets stolen within Skyhold, Varric has a new pet, and Hawke goes missing.





	A Snake in Skyhold

**Author's Note:**

> _'An animal gets inside Skyhold and starts taking things, or moving things around. No one knows this is happening, and they accuse each other (ex they think Sera's pulling a prank, that Cole thinks he's helping, or Varric is messing with Cass, etc.) to hilarious results.'_ -this was the prompt suggested by Rachel! Unfortunately, it got a wee bit angsty :p
> 
> thank you to my lovely friend [padawanhilary](https://archiveofourown.org/users/padawanhilary/pseuds/padawanhilary) for beta-reading this at the last minute! <3

* * *

‘Frickin' _daggers_ , really?' the elf whined. She gave the blade a flip but failed to catch it, sending it clattering on the ground in front of them. 'Right, if I stab one of you in the shoulder, it's on you.'

Varric passed the dagger back to her and she secured it awkwardly to her hip. ’How did you leave Skyhold _without_ your bow again, Buttercup?'

Sera shrugged. She kicked a pebble into a bush and a rabbit hopped out, running for dear life into the forest. ’Thought one of yous had it. You know, like a prank.'

'Sera, you're the only one who plays pranks on everyone,' Blackwall commented casually, looking around. He frowned despite the lightness in their conversation. It was quiet. Too quiet.

'Pffttt. Damn right I am. And thank fuck I do, else there wouldn’t be any fun—‘ an arrow whooshed past her, just above the shoulder but Sera tumbled backwards just in time.

'It's an ambush!!' Inquisitor Brianna summoned the power in her anchor and as if reaching for the silken strands of the Fade, she pulled forth a spherical barrier that repelled all kinds of ranged attacks. _Aegis of the rift._

Varric helped Sera up, taking note of what she'd tripped on. It slithered in circles around them and Sera let out a yelp. _A snake?_ The deafening explosion of magical fire amongst the arrows raining against the protective barrier shook it altogether. The companions readied themselves for a fight. _Red templars._

'Get ready! I can't hold it much longer!' the dwarf cried out, her hand trembling from retaining the magic that didn't belong to her. Sera cursed, then threw a smoke grenade to give them cover while Blackwall flanked to his lady's side, sword and shield at the ready. The snake, however, slithered awkwardly as if trying to latch onto Varric's boot.

He sighed, then quickly plucked the tiny creature from the ground. 'Alright, my new reptilian friend. You'll want to take cover in my pocket if you want to live. Buttercup's got daggers today,' he warned. It wasn't very large, to be honest—just big enough to fit the size of his palm when coiled in on itself.

When Varric gave his pocket a little pat, the barrier broke and chaos reigned. At least, for a moment. It was after all, an easy fight.

Skyhold seemed at peace for a moment—brave Inquisitor Brianna and her companions had turned a red templar ambush against themselves, destroying even more of their caches thus, crippling their supply of red lyrium even further. They celebrated that night—a suggestion which came surprisingly from their fearless leader—Brianna, formerly of house Cadash. Maybe her time with Blackwall mellowed her a little.

'Varric,' the Warden called to him, reaching the storyteller in a few strides. He was wearing comfortable pants and a simple tunic for this evening. The bonfire that was going kept everyone outside warm enough, even in Skyhold. ’This is going to be a strange question, but have you seen my beard oil?'

'And what would I use it for, Hero, my chest hair?' he laughed, as did the Warden. The camaraderie of tonight seemed to sing to all of them.

'I'm serious! It's gone missing. Plus,' he stopped, looking over to glance at his lady who was sitting atop The Iron Bull's shoulder and trying to shoot an arrow through an apple in a nearby tree. Scout Harding was doing the same, sitting on Tamar's shoulder and clearly having an easier time handling the bow.

'Brianna gave it to me. She found it in a peddler's stall at Caer Bronach and... well. It was a gift,’ Varric had never heard him actually say the Inquisitor’s name. The orange warmth of the fire seemed to make the older man glow. It was nice seeing him like this. In love.

The snake emerged suddenly on Varric's shoulder and gave Blackwall a little hiss, startling him. 'Maker's balls!'

Another hearty laugh escaped him ’What? The Hero can slice through darkspawn but can't deal with a tiny snake? Look at him, he's harmless. Plus, he saved Buttercup's life today,’ the rogue assured, taking him off his shoulder and presenting it to his warrior friend.

'This wee thing did?' The snake hissed at him even louder this time, then opened its mouth to bare its anger in all its toothless glory.

'Sure he did. You were just too busy staring at Pebble over there,' he nodded towards Brianna, and the arrows were released. Blackwall gazed at his love, who was now a bubble of giggles as she tried to get down from The Iron Bull with some help. Her face was flushed with glee and her hair was not in her usual tight braid. He'd not seen her have any kind of fun until tonight.

'The bottle is a deep rusty-red, and it smells a bit like cypress,' he waved Varric off and decided to spend some time with Brianna.

The next day, Varric realised something.

’Has anyone seen Hawke? Tall, clumsy, not nearly as beardy as Hero over there, and somehow the Champion of Kirkwall? No?' Varric asked his companions in the war room after the meeting had been adjourned. He was probably just overthinking it. Hawke had been gone for three days now, but it wasn’t uncommon. He was on a reconnaissance mission, after all, but Varric was sure he'd seen his fellow rogue just before the afternoon they were ambushed by red templars. Everyone looked at each other and shrugged, muttering to him as they passed.

‘How did you lose them, Amatus?’ They’re attached to your _horns_ ,’ Dorian scolded his lover gently, genuinely shocked. Varric noted that the gold accessory that the mage had procured for the warrior was missing.

Bull grunted, touching his horns. ‘Exactly.’

Josephine approached them with her clipboard clutched close to her chest. ‘Are you gentlemen also missing some of your possessions?’ their Ambassador enquired curiously. ‘Someone took my _favourite_ quill,’ she sighed sadly. Varric knew exactly which one she was talking about. It was the quill Leliana had given to her when she agreed to join the Inquisition.

The dwarf went to the other end of the table where Cole was standing, observing as usual. ‘Hey, Kid, are you doing any of this?’

The man shook his head. ‘No... not me. I take the hurt, not cause. _Lost. Lost and scared. Missing and nobody knows._ ’

Varric folded his arms, looking at the war table in thought. ‘Huh. I thought so. Just what the hell is—‘

Their Commander had stormed through the huge double doors of the war room looking irritable. He’d missed the morning meeting—which Varric thought was the strangest thing—but didn’t think much of it since Cassandra addressed the plans for the troops. The man’s tired eyes darted around the room until he found the storyteller.

‘Would you do everyone a bloody favour and keep this pet snake of yours on your person at all times,’ Cullen reprimanded sternly, literally shoving the reptile at him. The poor creature fumbled about in his palms as if trying to regain its balance as the Commander stormed back out without another word. When it finally did, it slithered up Varric’s arm and settled itself onto his shoulder.

Dorian came over to examine it. It reminded him of home, and he missed seeing snakes around his household. ‘That snake seems very attached to you, Varric. One would think you were an Imperium snake charmer!’

Bull bent down to take a look as well. ‘He’d probably make a lot of money, too. Look at those eyes. You don’t get snakes like that this side of Thedas.’

The dwarf held out his little finger towards the snake and it nudged him. Then, it flicked its tongue at him—three long, consecutive flicks, before hissing once. Varric frowned, then took a _really_ good look at the snake. Its scales were mostly red, with slight swirls of gold lines that made it look even more beautiful and exotic. Its eyes were as blue as the skies above them. Then, the snake touched its tiny head to his nose.

_Cypress._

Varric’s eyes widened. ‘Holy shit.’

It took them awhile, but eventually, Morrigan managed to reverse the silly (and harmless) spell that had trapped the Champion in his reptilian form.

‘That’s the last time I touch any magical acorns from seemingly harmless trees,’ Hawke whined, pulling on a clean tunic. Being naked as a snake for the past three days was more than enough, and he missed having the feel of fabric against his skin.

‘I don’t get it, why steal from us? Wasn’t there an easier way?’ Varric asked, trying his best to stifle a laugh. It’d been a few hours now, but the very thought of it was still hilarious.

‘At first I tried Sera’s bow because I thought you’d get it! _I_ use a bow, don’t I?’ Hawke threw his hands up in the air.

‘Right, you, Choir Boy, Buttercup, Nightingale—you know, just to name a few,’ he shrugged.

‘I panicked, okay?’

‘Tiny’s ornaments?’

‘Arishok! Qunari!’ Hawke had collapsed back onto his bed now. His sweet, soft bed with an actual pillow.

Varric rolled his eyes at his friend. ‘Beard oil?’ he asked, and Hawke merely pointed to his own beard. Okay, maybe he _should_ have figured that one out.

‘And I thought that by stealing your Ambassador’s quill, I might scribble something onto some parchment. I never want to live a life without thumbs, Varric.’

He lifted the piece of parchment with… circular scribbles and a huge splotch of ink where the inkwell had spilled. ‘Point taken. And Curly?’

Hawke’s eyes widened. _Cullen._

The Champion was out of the door in seconds, rushing towards the Commander’s office. But the man wasn’t behind his desk where he usually stood, poring over maps and orders. Fear bubbled in his gut, but Hawke noticed that the door to the left was slightly ajar. Pushing it, he saw the man in question at the far corner where the battlements met its end in debris, staring out to the mountains. 

‘I’m sorry I threw you at Varric,’ Cullen apologised when he heard Hawke approach.

The Champion shrugged. ‘It was more of a shove, really. I don’t bruise easily.’

Cullen took in a deep breath, then exhaled. The throb in his head was getting worse. ‘Why did you do it?’

There was silence for the longest time. Hawke recalled slithering into Cullen’s office a few hours ago, watching him from the corner of the room. The moment he saw the tiny old box, Hawke acted out of instinct. He knocked the box so hard off the table that it broke.

‘Because I care. Because you are _better_ than that stupid box and that wretched vial of substance. Because... I didn’t want you to let Amell down,’ Hawke answered, eyes hard on the man before him.

Cullen scoffed. ‘Amell _hates_ me. How could I ever let her down even more?’

Without hesitation, Hawke gave his answer. ‘By giving up. She left because you wouldn’t stand up for her kind even though she _believed_ you the best. Now look at you—Commander of the Inquisition forces who _s_ _uppo_ _rts_ the mages. You helped her cousin—my sister—when she was in the circle. You’ve helped a lot of people since Kinloch Hold.’

Silence.

‘She still loves you. And she hopes that you will learn to forgive yourself as she did you,’ Hawke said after a while, placing a hand on the man’s shoulder. He watched as a storm of emotions swept across his face.

‘Being a Warden is a lonely life. Amell is close to the cure, and she hopes to come home to you one day,’ Hawke admits in a whisper, holding out a letter towards him. It was in _her_ handwriting.

Cullen looked at the letter, then at Hawke. He felt the vial of lyrium in all its blue, melodious glory clutched small in his hand.

Then he threw it over the battlements.


End file.
